


Anthology of Past Lives

by Itherael



Series: De memorias pasadas y amores perdidos [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Did it had to be angst? Of course, Eventual Happy Ending, Fantasy, Heavy Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Multi, Multiple Major Character Death, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Linear Narrative, Rebirth cycles, Reincarnation, Stolen lore from the Diablo saga, This is the author's birthday gift to all of you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itherael/pseuds/Itherael
Summary: “A deal with Fate is more dangerous than one with the Devil” And with that, the soul laughs.“Oh, Fate, what you have done to me,to us, is nothing compared to this”In which Amon and Kaneki are soulmates, Amon is the only one who remembers their past lives and because of that, decides to interrupt the cycle just to ensure Kaneki’s happiness.It goes, as expected, terribly wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!
> 
> Just a quick warning: This is a bunch of prompts mixed together into a big mess, some lives will not be written in chronological order. Fate will also remain as an unnamed character because it could have sounded a bit too pretentious *looks at username*.
> 
> And before you curse my very existence, remember: It might be angst, it might make you cry, but the ending is... hopeful? bittersweet? The only spoiler I'm giving: they reach their happy end, not in the way you would expect ;)

_Fate's realm is a silent one._

_The Eternal Library, glowing with the Crystal shards, its trees made of pure light and the countless, never ending corridors housing an even larger amount of scrolls. Hooded figures, always busy working with shards, writing down the life and death of every living thing._

_It’s peaceful, its song reflecting the seriousness of the labor of the Notelings and the guarding Luminerai that had never have a busy day since the end of Legion’s invasion and the desecration of the Lord of Despair to this holy grounds._

_Except today._

_The souls of dead humans are led to Justice’s Halls to receive their judgement, and even if Valor decides that one of them is worthy of joining the Sicarai, they still never get to set a foot in Fate’s realm._

_So the sight of a bleeding, barely human soul causes a big surprise._

_The Notelings remain in their places, frozen at the sight of the soul, and even the Luminerai, battle hardened warriors, have never seen a soul in such a state. But the human doesn’t pay attention to them, and with what seems to be the last of their strength, they scream._

_“FATE! I DEFY YOU!”  
_

_And that’s how the peace is shattered._

 

♠♠♠♠

 

Their first life is... happy, until it isn’t

_(This is the life that should have given her the warning. This is the life that should have made her know that Fate would be cruel with them. The unfairness of the world, the sadness and tragedy that would be a constant in their lives.)_

She’s a priestess in training, and he’s the future Pharaoh. A child of the Gods, someone who had nothing to do with a mere servant girl.

The child has grey eyes, a rarity that makes him more venerated than his predecessors. She doesn’t have the right to see him, or even talk to him, but he’s still a child.

So she defies the orders of her teachers and becomes the Pharaoh’s friend, putting at risk her future position of High Priestess, but she doesn’t care, not when the Pharaoh comments how much he likes her eyes, and how her company is the only thing that brings him happiness.

She doesn’t see the Pharaoh, she only sees her friend.

Her tutors say that maybe their lives are tied together, an union made by the Gods themselves. But there are others, others who often say how much of a bad influence she is, that she’s not worthy of her future role, that she doesn’t deserve the love of the young Pharaoh.

She’s the future High Priestess of Amun, she’s more than worthy.

But the promised bride of the young Pharaoh doesn’t think the same. Not when she has see them walking side by side, or how the Pharaoh looks at the Priestess like she’s a Goddess walking among mortals.

But nothing matters, not when a mere thief decides to kill the future Pharaoh with his own hands, and only the Priestess manages to stop him. At the sake of her own life.

The Priestess promises to wait for him in the Afterlife, and even if she’s choking with her own blood, she still manages to be the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

She dies in his arms.

The Afterlife doesn’t exists.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Their second life ends shortly after their first encounter, and it’s possibly the most confusing one. Well, being totally honest, the next 3 lives will be equally confusing, with the memories of the past and the current present making it harder to understand.

He still remembers the unforgiving sun, the weight of his responsibilities, and it’s hard to get accustomed to a different culture when his past one was still so fresh in his mind. It had caused him great problems during his childhood (childhood, something he never thought he would live again _but he will 22 times more_ ), when his old language would mix with his current one, when his prayers to the Gods would not only receive odd looks, but also the punishment of his parents.

So when he’s old enough, when his Father decides that it’s too much, that he’s a blasphemous man who refuses to believe in the Gods he should believe, he ends up in the Circo Massimo, as one of the hundreds of slaves and gladiators.

His father never looks for him after that. His only mercy is not telling them about his refusal to believe in the Gods of Rome, if he did, he would have been food to the famished beasts in a heartbeat.

He quickly makes a name for himself. He’s not the youngest, but he’s possibly the smartest. He’s quick to learn the tricks and exploit the weakness of the older ones, and his instructors are quite proud of his progress.

He’s bought on his third year, close to his 17th birthday, and he becomes the star of the show. A living legend, the one everyone looks forward to see performing.

Because, you see, everyone in the Circo goes for one thing: the massacre, the bloodbath; so it’s a surprise to see a gladiator that doesn’t kill.

He’s the only gladiator that doesn’t kill his opponents, despite the rage of his owner, but to the eternal amusement of the Emperor.

It’s during one of those days when he sees _him_ for the first (and last) time.

The man looks sick, like he had been forced to see the carnage, and his grey eyes look with disgust and hate to the Arena. There’s a woman next to him, one of the regulars, who smiles with amusement to the predicament of her companion.

And despite this being a different time, the gladiator recognizes the man in a second.

He doesn’t see a man in white robes barely containing the urge of throwing up, no, he sees his Pharaoh, the friend of a lifetime ago, the man he had loved with every fiber of his being. So when it’s finally his turn, he can’t concentrate.

He wants to scream, to ask if the man remembers him, but there’s no recognition in those grey eyes, and he can feel his heart stopping.

_Why? Why he doesn’t remember me?_

He fights with more desperation, the gladius and the lance tightly gripped, and for the first time, he kills. He can’t bring himself to care about the screams of his victims, the only thing in his mind is that _he doesn’t remember me_.

Which would lead to his downfall.

He doesn’t see the next attack, and suddenly there’s a lance in his back, and the quick, unforgiving attacks of his opponent brings him to his knees faster than he would have thought possible. His own gladius in his throat, and the roar of the audience is deafening, but his eyes are glued to the man in the audience.

_Why?_

_I’m right here, why do you not remember me?_

His life ends before he can get those answers.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_Fate, in a surprising turn of events, decides to make an audience with the soul._

_The human, with the spears of the Luminerai in their throat, looks at Fate with burning hate. There’s no fear in those eyes, a being that has lost too much, too long doesn’t have the need to feel fear over something like this._

_Fate knows this kind of souls,_ _the soul that gets trapped into an eternal cycle of rebirth, a soul that has sacrificed everything in life to ensure the happiness of another. Fate can see the exhaustion, despite trying to look tall and strong, this soul is too weakened, and they both know that maybe their next life will be the last._

_This kind of souls aren’t able to live more than 20 lives before the corruption start to claim them. And after the 24, their annihilation is near._

_More importantly, he knows this particular soul._

_“What do you want, mortal?” Fate’s voice is cold, like it should be.  
_

_“24 lives” the soul rasps, turquoise eyes finally showing the weariness, the desperation. “24 lives and they keep suffering no matter what I do. Why do you have to be so cruel?!”  
_

_“I recall that some of those lives were actually quite happy” the Notelings remain silent, curiously looking at the soul. “Despite the bond, and how much it would hurt you, you still left them to their happiness”_

_“But at the next life you were more ruthless”  
_

_Fate sighs, because it’s unfortunately true. This 2 souls in particular, chosen by God and unbreakably bonded, no matter the time and space between them have suffered more than any other pair. Sure, they have not been the first ones, and of course this one soul is not the first to seek an audience and defy Fate’s absolute command, but never at this stage, not when they are so close to their true death._

_“You are aware that this is your last rebirth”  
_

_“I am, so I’m gambling everything on this” The soul smirks.  
_

_“A deal with Fate is more dangerous than one with the Devil” And with that, the soul laughs.  
_

_“Oh, Fate, what you have done to me, **to us** , is nothing compared to this”  
_

_Sadly, it’s not._

 

♠♠♠♠

 

She’s the child of a farmer in this life, her thirst of knowledge dampened by the creed of others. Still, she has more experience than anyone in this little town, and not even the word of the Lord holds importance to her.

Her father tries to control her, tame her like if she was nothing but a beast, but her past memories are still too fresh, and defiance has always being one of her worst traits.

She finds solace and love in the form of another girl, a healer with those grey eyes she has loved in all her lives, and despite her desire to ask if the healer remembers her past, if there’s any reminiscence of the love they had once felt for each other, she keeps those questions to herself.

The need to ask battles just as hard as the need to kiss those soft lips. She knows it would be considered a sin, but she has loved the other in different forms and genders that she doesn’t care anymore, but she knows it could offend the healer.

Still, she can’t still find the answer.

She remembers the words of the Priest in her first life, the ones where he talked about bonded souls ( _”a pair chosen by the Gods”_ ), but that still didn’t explain why she was the only one that remembered. It doesn’t make sense, but trying to ask anyone about her predicament would end with her burning, accused of being a witch. 

Unfortunately, she’s not the one that burns.

She hears the news from her father, the drunk bastard. He mentions how the church found the girl guilty of witchcraft, and that she’s to burn that very same day. Her heart clenches hard, and the world stops once again. During their last lives, she’s always the one to die first, so why did Fate decide to change the cycle? Was her suffering not enough?!

She runs as fast as her weak legs can carry her, and she screams when she first sees the fires. Her love is tied, her once immaculate white dress is now torn, dirty by the ashes. She continues to scream, collapsing near the stake, begging the priest to _let her go, that she’s innocent, that she doesn’t deserve such a cruel end._

The healer only smiles, tears in her eyes, keeping her silence. The farmer continues to scream.

Now she feels what her beloved felt in their first life. Seeing the one you love die is something worse than death.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_Fate, in essence, is not a cruel being. No, Fate is logical, cold and almost unforgiving on their job. But their job is the part that confuses every human, and even some of the Notelings._

_Officially, Fate can’t touch the destiny of the living beings, their only job is to decipher the threads of destiny woven in the Scroll. Fate and Destiny are considered the same thing, but while destiny is chosen by God, written in the Scrolls to let Fate do, what it’s considered, the dirty job._

_Fate is unable to change the events in the life of others, and is also unable to tell what will happen. The events of Destiny should go without interruption, without the intervention of a third party._

_But Fate can make exceptions._

_“As I said, this will be your last life” The hooded being starts, calmly. “The last life where you will remember everything, the last life their soul will be tied to yours. It will also be the one you both will suffer the most”  
_

_That makes the human freeze, panic slowly taking over them._

_“But,” Fate continues, with a much gentler voice, “the next life will be a new beginning for your bonded one. I can not tell how many lives they have left, but I can assure you, the ones they still have to live will be filled with happiness”  
_

_It’s impossible for any of the Aspects to lie (despite Valor’s multiple attempts), and the solemn note in Fate’s voice should give the human the idea that his petition has been accepted._

_“All of this with the price of my death, right?”  
_

_“No”  
_

_The conviction in the human weavers for a second, and both know that whatever Fate has as the price of this deal, is worse than annihilation._

_“The price is the bond itself. In your last life, their soul will not be tied to yours, but you will be still tied to them”  
_

_**“Their soul will be bonded with another, and you will be powerless to do anything for them. In fact, you might end up being their worst tormentor”** _

 

♠♠♠♠

 

There are lives where they don’t meet. Or the other alternative, his love skips a cycle.

It’s totally fine to him, his love deserve to rest after everything Fate has done to them, but it doesn’t take the loneliness away. Still, he can’t stop dreaming of grey eyes, the memories of the past and the possibilities that the future would bring. A future he both awaits and dreads, because he always needs to see them being happy, either by his side or with another, but he still fears what Fate must have prepared for them.

The lives when they are not together (4 when his soulmate is nowhere to be found, 2 where they don’t meet and 3 where they chooses another), he treasures those memories dear to his heart and continues to live on, until the cycle claims back his soul.

And Fate has thrown some strange variables during each period, and the marks, the names, the timers and what other little difference are something new. He wants to laugh at this, it’s not like a mark on his body, that would be a perfect match to his destined one, would be necessary to recognize the soul he has loved for so many lives.

Still, it’s a nice consideration to those who don’t remember. But it’s also comforting, seeing a mark in his body and knowing that they must be out there, in another city and looking at their mark with the same longing he does.

There might not be shared memories, but their souls are still connected through a bond stronger than time and space.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

In this life, she sees the woman of her life marry another.

It’s just as cliché as it sounds, the maid of honor in love with the bride. But how can’t she not fall in love, when the bride looks so beautiful in that white dress, the forget-me-nots (oh, the irony...) adorning her hair and a blinding smile that makes her heart skip a beat?

This is also the only life when she’s so invested into the marriage of her loved one with another person. The first and only. This is the life that proves her that although dying earlier or seeing her loved one die before than her, seeing the bride choose another is not as equally painful, but it still breaks her heart.

The next ones she will disappear as soon as the marriage is announced, but will still watch from afar to see if they are still happy, if their spouse treats them like they deserve. In this one, she smiles through her tears.

The bride deserves this.

Even if it’s not at her side.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

There are words in his skin. It’s not a name, and it’s not a date, just a simple “Are you there?” in childlike calligraphy.

For someone as young as himself, the bitter smile on his face must look unsettling. He can’t bring himself to care.

_Are you having fun, Fate?_

He tries his best to answer those short messages, his chubby hands are barely capable of firmly holding the pen, and his handwriting gets messier with every passing life (he knows, he has to work on it but once again, he’s too young), so he prays that his soulmate somehow manages to decypher the chicken scratch he dares to call “writing”.

The messages continue as he grows up, sometimes they are just doodles or tic-tac-toe games, and sometimes they are long paragraphs, detailing how their day was and what lessons they learned. He never dares to ask a name, silently hoping that this time, if their interactions are like this, his soulmate will live a happy, fulfilling life like they deserve.

His soulmate doesn’t ask for a name either, no matter how many years had passed since that first message. It’s okay, though, he understands.

It still doesn’t make easier when his soulmate starts talking about a suitor their parents have found for them. He keeps messaging his support, his handwriting worse than years before, the silly doodles to cheer them up.

When the messages stop appearing in his skin, he tries to convince himself that it’s okay, that it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

He’s okay.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_"Remember what I told you, many lives ago?”_

_The soul, no longer caring about their composure, is kneeling, the Luminerai instead of guarding him of lashing out stand next to him, worried for the limp form._

_“You talked about a defective soul, right?”_

 

♠♠♠♠

 

Of all his lives, this is by far the strangest one.

He has fought many creatures during each one of them, but never, never in his entire existence, he would have thought of fighting _demons_.

No, not like an exorcist or something along those lines, no that would have been way too easy ( _honestly Fate, what the ever loving fuck..._ ), but as a crusader bashing demonic creatures with a flail and a heavy shield.

Like he had said before, _what the fuck, Fate?_

But at the same time, it’s entertaining. This is the first time he can freely speak to his soulmate about their shared past lives, if the whole context of Heaven and Hell fighting over the world of humans wasn’t weird enough, the concept of soulmates shouldn’t be that strange, right?

Right?

His soulmate, a demon hunter in this lifetime, hears him in complete seriousness, and profusely apologizes for not remembering any of their past lives. It’s... refreshing, and he can’t help but feel thankful of this bizarre opportunity.

If saving a world was what he needed to finally tell his soulmate about their story, he would save a thousand and one more just for that.

This is also the life where he finally meets Fate. And as anyone could have guessed (if they knew the Crusader’s story), would have expected that all Hell would break lose.

\-----------------

It’s the second time he steps into the Eternal Library, the corruption of Despair still lingering in the air, despite how sunlight slowly purified the heavens. And after shouting to Fate every curse he knew in every different language he had learned during his time alive, he had finally calmed down enough to talk with the very thing that had cursed his very existence.

“So... you’re saying that I’m a defective soul” Of all the things Fate could have said, that was the only thing the Crusader would have never expected.

“Exactly. The normal soulmate cycle is, after their death, their souls will begin anew, with no memories of their past, but still bonded” Fate explains, ignoring the look of pure incredulity in the face of the human. “Like your bonded one, who doesn’t remember you in each one of their lives, but still loves you in every iteration... their soul will never face the same corruption as yours will”

The Crusader feels his heart stop.

Fate continues, uncaring. “A defective soul, however... will never be rebirthed, always trapped in an eternal cycle of repeats until they face their true death, the annihilation of themselves.” Fate turns to look at him, the darkness of their hood more horrific than the sight of the Burning Hells. “There is not a possible way to save yourself, child. You’re bound to die one day, and they will still not remember you”

_No, this can’t be true, it can’t be possible._

“I’m truly sorry, my child” Fate sound apologetic, a deep sadness etched in their voice. “If there is a destiny worse than death, it’s the one you will be forced to face”

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_“Think of the lives where you were happy. Is it worth the sacrifice?”_

_The soul scoffs, “Do you even have to ask that?”_

 

♠♠♠♠

 

 

 

One of his favorite lives is in Venice. It’s also his favorite meeting.

In this life, Fate has decided to add a colorless world, where the touch of your promised one will bring colors to your life. It’s... weird to live for the first time in a world without colors, and for the first time he starts treasuring the blue skies, the flowers and many, many other things.

Venice is a beautiful place, and even the black and white can’t hide its beauty. The Carnival is something everyone looks forward, and there’s not a single soul in this town that spends more money than they have in dresses and masks.

He, of course, is not an exception to this.

Despite his inability to see colors, he knows his mask is... colorful, if the different shades of grey didn’t give him an idea of it. And what’s better than a mask to hide yourself and pickpocket everyone? Ah, such a ludicrous chance.

So he joins the dances, quicksilver fingers stealing rings, necklaces and one or two earrings. He has more fun in this party than during his entire current life.

He’s so distracted with the laughter, the adrenaline and the people around him that he doesn’t see the young man stumbling into him, and the moment their hands touch, his world explodes into color.

The man in his arms gasps, looking marveled to the impressive sight of thousands of colorful dresses, masks and feathers. He doesn’t care, he only can see the ugliest color combination in a mask and the beautiful grey eyes of the owner of said mask.

(What he doesn’t know yet is that the man in his arms is a noble. It’s okay, the night is long and he has a long life yet to live)

His old motivations of coming to the party are quickly forgotten, and they dance all night.

It’s one of his happiest memories.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Walking in four legs is a whole new experience.

He grows next to his soulmate, but in this life he’s a guardian, a companion with the duty of protecting a child and being the best friend in the whole world.

He has always had an affinity with animals, but being a dog...

Still, he can curl up in bed with the child, lick his face when they cry and receive all the hugs he often doesn’t get when he’s a human. It’s, just like Venice, just like that one life when they are happy and grow old together despite the adversities, one of the happiest lives.

His soulmates calls him Koichi, and he’s both the joy of the kid and the nightmare of the aunt.

Because, you see, if your soulmate gets hurt because some petty reason, you will try to get revenge on the person who hurt them, right? So it’s not his fault that he often messes the garden, poop on the woman’s favorite carpet, leave the clothes full of mud and grass or chew those new, expensive shoes she had talked so much about.

Getting shoes thrown at him or being hit with a newspaper don’t matter, because he still makes his soulmate laugh with each one of his mischiefs. He’s going to protect the one he loves no matter his form.

That’s something he had vowed since his first life, and no matter how many lives passed, that promise is still strong.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_“I will ask again, do you accept this deal, no matter the consequences it will bring to you?”_

 

♠♠♠♠

 

This life is a painful contrast to the one in Venice.

He’s an artist in this life, not a renowned one but he has some reputation, with enough fame to be commissioned by some important people. It’s funny, because he still has not found those familiar grey eyes, and his world is still in black and white.

Still, when the young Duchess comes to his studio and the world once again is full of color, he dares to feel hope again.

Their love is a secret one, long nights hidden in his studio with just the pale moonlight as witness. He’s happy, extremely so, so damn happy he doesn’t think this can’t end bad, that this is finally it, this will be the live when they will be finally together.

_Ah, how **naive**._

He receives the news from the townspeople, how the Duchess had fallen ill and the doctors couldn’t do anything to save her. He should have known, he should have known.

They don’t let him see her, no matter how much he begs.

So he returns to his studio, and paints. Paints her in every way he remembers, while colors slowly start to bleed out from his vision. The pale pink of her lips, her colorful dresses, the red on her cheeks when she blushed... all those colors disappear from his vision one by one.

_Not yet, not yet, not yet..._

The world returns to black.

He can’t bear the image of her, he feels unworthy of her smile, no matter how idiotic that sounds. The studio burns down, with every evidence of her turning into ashes.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_“Just... just do it”_

 

♠♠♠♠

 

The words on his wrist mock him, the bold black and the  _“… It’s just like… you were saying” **burn him**._

Not even the treason of the man he considered his father in this life hurts as much as this, but it’s part of the deal. He carries the first words his soulmate will say to him, and he knows they don’t carry his.

He continues to play the role of Amon Koutarou, the strong investigator that fights ghouls, ignoring the inner turmoil of his soul and unfounded uncertainty if Fate will play their part of the deal.

Despite the fact of knowing their soul is not tied to his any longer doesn’t stop him from searching those familiar grey eyes, as pointless as it can be, but his own decisions brought him to this point.

He has to carry on.

\-----------------

The Eyepatch ghoul. It had to be the Eyepatch ghoul, with the _golden words_ in his wrist, a sign of an already formed bond.

Because his own words will be always that horrible black, _by his own damn choice and Fate had warned him but he had been so stubborn_ , but Eyepatch’s words are golden, and there’s little comfort in that.

This will be his last life, and they are already enemies.

\-----------------

_This is the first life he will die by his hand, this will be the first life he will be rebirthed in the same body, this will be the first life he will know someone who shares the same burden._

\-----------------

She is a defective soul, just like him.

Takatsuki Sen, the infamous Owl, Eto. Someone who carries the memories of 15 lifetimes, someone who, like him, is trapped in the eternal cycle of repeats.

Despite the torture and the pain, they bond through their past experiences, and surprising them both, they build a strange sort of companionship.

She’s the only one who knows about his deal with Fate, he’s the only one who knows that her soulmate in this timeline is dead.

They know that one day they might face each other in the battlefield, and the fact that they knew each other’s pasts will no longer matter. Still, the comfort is more than welcomed.

\-----------------

Sasaki Haise.

Eyepatch.

Kaneki Ken.

Kaneki Ken who is no longer his soulmate, but Nagachika’s. Kaneki Ken, who is the indirect responsible of Amon becoming a ghoul. Kaneki Ken, the boy, the soul that has made him know pain and misery, love and happiness over the course of 25 lives.

Kaneki Ken, who is currently kissing him.

Kaneki Ken, who mutters that he loves him, that _he loves Amon Koutarou and Amon doesn’t know how he is not crying._

(He is)

Kaneki Ken, who promises that they will live what’s left of their lives together, and that he will do everything in his power to make him the happiest man alive.

Kaneki, who doesn’t know about his deal with Fate and will never know.

The kisses taste bittersweet.

\-----------------

They don’t grow old together, but they spent their last moments alive together.

It was bound to happen, the ghoulification had shortened their lifespan dramatically, but Amon is still the first one to die.

With the last of his strength, he decides to tell Kaneki about their past 24 lives, about the lives where they met and the ones they didn’t. The ones where they were happy and those unhappy ones too, the ones they had laughed until they couldn't breathe and the ones when they had cried.

The ones filled with kisses and hugs, the ones that ended before they even began.

It’s his last life, Amon considers that it’s fair for Kaneki to finally known about everything.

When he finally tells them about his deal with Fate, the tears had turned into ones of anger and frustration, and _how could you be so selfish, Koutarou?!_

“Would you have chosen something different, if you were the one in my position?”

Kaneki remains silent.

In the end, Amon tells him that despite the pain and suffering, he was happy, unbelievably so, and so, so thankful of having the honor of loving him. It didn’t matter if there were 5, 10, 15 or 50 lives, Amon would still have loved him in each one of them.

Amon feels peaceful, having once again the chance of telling Kaneki of their shared past, only this time he has the chance to say good bye too.

It’s the most painful good bye they have ever gone through.

Because there isn’t a next time to make things right, because this is the last time they will love each other, because Amon has condemned himself to die just to ensure Kaneki’s happiness.

Kaneki curses Fate’s very existence, just like Amon had done during so many lives.

Amon asks one final thing before his life fades away, along with the memories of 25 lives, along with their shared love.

“Please be happy, and forget about me”

If it could only be so simple.

_So selfish, Koutarou..._

 Amon Koutarou dies, and with him, the love of 25 lifetimes.

 

♠♠♠♠

 

_“Fate... someone requests a meeting” The soft voice of Hope calls out to them.  
_

_Fate knew this would come eventually. That pair would give them many grey hairs if it was possible. And of course Hope would have hear about them, and with her intervention, Fate knew they were powerless._

_“Bring them in”  
_

_The pair deserves their happiness, after all._

 

♠♠♠♠

 

Koutarou doesn’t believe in the red string of fate. He also doesn’t believe in soulmates. It’s just a childish story, told by the helpless romantic and those who await for their one true love.

Sure, he knows the legend, the red string in his little finger and all of that. It’s a childish illusion, but it’s just that, an illusion.

“People connected with this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances” pure bullshit, if you ask him.

Hearing high schoolers giggling over marks and what the future might have stored for them kind of annoys him. It’s not the age, he’s barely 21 and the bitterness of adulthood is still beyond him, but he can’t really explain why hearing the “my soulmate...”, “I hope they are...” and so many others things make his skin crawl.

(Still, it doesn’t stop the countless dreams, dreams of grey eyes and different periods he feels he had lived and _those grey eyes haunt him even when he’s awake_ )

That’s it, until some punk bumps into him, spilling all his coffee over his notes and _Oh my god I’m going to kill them._

“I’m so sorry!!” And it turns out that the punk is actually a really cute young man, who is trying to clean the mess he made with his own scarf.

That shouldn’t be as cute as it is.

“It’s.. okay”

The man finally looks up, and their eyes meet. Those grey eyes are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

They bring a weird sort of nostalgia, a longing that feels too old in his soul. It’s inexplicable, but he feels that he should know the man in front of him. Maybe they had met in another time?

The man smiles, and his eyes are suddenly full of tears.

_“I found you”_

And that phrase should sound strange, because they don’t know each other from anywhere, but those 3 words bring peace to his soul, and he feels _complete_.

Koutarou can only nod, a knot in his throat and he can’t stop his own tears.

_“Yes, you did”_

Because, you see, even if the deal with Fate involved the destruction of their bond, there’s no possible way to completely break the love of 25 lives, no matter if the memories are no longer there.

Soulmates will always find each other, no matter the time and space between them.

Not even with a deal with Fate itself can change that.

And Hope smiles, because this is the beginning of a new life for them, a new cycle of rebirth that instead of pain, would bring Fate’s promised happiness.

Everything is finally how it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> :)
> 
> There's a chance that this fic might get outtakes of the lives that were left out of this (like a Tirana del Tamarugal idea I had, a chance of Pacific Rim and others), so if you're interested, hit me up with a comment.
> 
> The life where Amon meets Fate for the first time is from my Diablo AU, btw. 
> 
>  
> 
> [iterael](http://iterael.tumblr.com/) @ tumblr


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